


Sweet Dreams Are Made of This

by spectaculacularsammy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Plot What Plot, Porn Without Plot, Sleepy!Sam, Smut, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-29
Updated: 2014-08-29
Packaged: 2018-02-15 05:49:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2218107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spectaculacularsammy/pseuds/spectaculacularsammy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tumblr prompt from dirtysupernaturalimagines.<br/>http://dirtysupernaturalimagines.tumblr.com/post/81521192651/source<br/>"Imagine overhearing Sam having a naughty dream about you, while making 'some serious happy noises'</p><p>This is also part of my mission to fill this site with more Sam/Reader fics, one page of smutty goodness at a time. :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweet Dreams Are Made of This

Dean had stumbled off to his bedroom about an hour ago, leaving you and Sam with a chaotic mess of papers and dusty books, all written in languages long dead and gone. You look down at your book and try to focus on the words, but you're exhausted. The three of you have been up for days with just naps here and there. Desperate for a jolt of caffeine, you reach for your cup of coffee, only to find it empty.

"Crap. I'm out of coffee. Sam, you got any left?" 

Sam reaches for the two styrofoam gas station cups in front of him and the ceramic mug to his left and shakes his head. "Nope I'm out too. I'll go put on another pot."

You look up at him and notice the bags under his eyes are worse than yours. Both of you really should just retire to your beds, but you know Sam won't even consider it until Dean comes back out, which won't be for another four or five hours.

"I got it," you say before he stands up from his chair. "One pot of diesel fuel, coming up." Sam smiles, nodding his head in thanks and reaches for another book as you walk in the direction of the kitchen to start the coffee.

Placing a coffee filter filled with an extra heaping scoop of grounds in the top, you pour in the water. You've done this too many times to count in the last few days. Leaning against the wall, waiting for the coffee to brew, you almost fall asleep, but the smell of fresh coffee wakes you up. Holding the two cups in one hand by their handles, you fill them with the hot caffeine-filled liquid and head back to the table you've been sitting at for what feels like days.

Back at the table, you find Sam resting his head on criss-crossed arms on top of the pile of books he was so studiously cross-referencing various pieces of lore, just moments ago. He's snoring softly and you just don't have the heart to wake him. Tousling his brown hair softly with your free hand, you whisper, "Good night, Sleeping Beauty." Quietly snickering at him, you set both cups of coffee down in front of your spot, settle in the chair next to Sam and to try to make heads or tails of the mess in front of you.

A lengthy amount of time passes, however long it takes to drink both your cup of coffee and then Sam's and you're more confused than you were an hour ago. You reach your arms above you in a stretch, accidentally bumping the sleeping moose next to you and a small groan slips from his lips. You chuckle a little bit as you start to clean up the books and papers, putting things back into their manilla file folders, back into binder clips and stacking the books up in a neat pile. More little noises escape Sam's mouth. Breathy moans and whines, along with garbled needy pleas that you can't understand.

"Someone's having fun," you whisper aloud, continuing to tidy things up. Sam's 'happy noises' and heavy breathing, continue to break the silence intermittently.

You'd never admit it out loud, but the little noises coming from Sam's mouth are turning you on, the way his jaw clenches and his eyebrows furrowing, causing little wrinkles between them... _Wow._ Sam's always nice to look at, but right now? _Jesus._ The sounds go right to your center.

You and Sam have never messed around before. Flirted like crazy in your own little nerdy ways with maybe a few cuddles here and there. Sam would sometimes wrap an arm around you and pull you close to him, while watching a movie. Or if you were sitting on the couch doing research, you'd use his thigh for a pillow, but nothing ever beyond that. Not that you didn't want anything beyond that, you TOTALLY did, Sam just never made a move or let on that he wanted more.

As you gather the last book next to Sam (being careful not to touch him, even though you desperately want to), he breathes, "Jesus, _________, that feels so good. I need...oh God, don't stop." Followed by another string of filthy moans, groans and whines, his hands clenching and unclenching under his face.

Your mouth falls open, Sam is having a sex dream ABOUT YOU!

In your shock you accidentally drop the book in your hands onto the table, right next to Sam. He immediately wakes up, his head flying up from his pile of books and with bleary, sleep-filled eyes, he looks right up at you. Your eyes are wide, your face has flushed red and you freeze right where you are.

Maybe he doesn't remember the dream and you can just let it go, saving both Sam and yourself some embarrassment? But then his cheeks flush a deep shade of pink, as do the tips of his ears and down his neck, giving it all away. Nope, he remembers. You can see it on his face, you know he knows you know because he can see it on your face too.

"Well, I think I've had enough fun...NO! I mean...books...I've had enough BOOKS for one night. I'm going..." you point down the hallway over your shoulder. "I'm just gonna go." You back away from Sam, almost tripping over a book you missed on the floor and hustle down the hallway, leaving Sam, red faced and embarrassed at the table.

Once you reach the safety of your bedroom, you close the door and lean back against it. Sweet Jesus, Sam was dreaming about you! You remember the sounds he made, his heavy breathing, the way he clenched and unclenched his hands. He seemed to be enjoying himself, whatever it was the two of you were doing. You smirk and think, _What exactly I was doing to him?_ You leave your door and walk toward your bed. You sit down, jumping a little when you hear a knock at your door. You know it's Sam.

"Yeah..." your voice cracks. You clear your throat and try again. "Yeah, Sam, you can come in."

Sam opens your door and takes a hesitant step inside your room. You raise your eyebrows curiously as he closes the door behind him.

"So, uh..." He runs his hand through his hair, "Sorry about... _that_." He walks over so he's standing in front of you.

You laugh nervously, "It's fine, seriously," but your eyes don't meet his, you just look at the floor. Sam is standing so close to you, you can feel heat radiating off of him. It takes everything you have not to stand up close the gap between the two of you. You want nothing more to experience first hand exactly what Sam was dreaming about, but you stay silent.

He shifts uncomfortably from one foot to the other and you finally gaze up at him. When your eyes meet Sam's, it takes just seconds and his body is pressed against yours, moving you up on your bed. You wrap your arms around his neck and make room for him between your knees. He lets out a needy groan, the same one he made in his sleep just moments ago. He kisses down your jaw, making his way to your neck, sucking and nibbling marks into your skin.

"Sam?" you murmur into his hair.

"Hmmmm?" his lips pressed against the tender skin of your neck.

"Is this what you were dreaming about?" you whisper, fingertips gently running up and down his back through his shirts.

He snickers against the skin directly underneath your chin, nibbling once before answering you, "Sort of, but..." he sits up on his knees between your legs, his fingers playing with the hem of your shirt. "We were wearing a lot less clothes." A grin spreads across his face.

You reach up to unbutton his plaid shirt and shrug it off his broad shoulders.  Your hands coming back for his white undershirt, yanking it over his head, making his hair deliciously disheveled. He reaches for your tee shirt and does the same thing to you, leaving you sitting around Sam's knees in your bra and jeans. Sam's still in his jeans too and they're riding dangerously low, showing off every chiseled-to-perfection muscle. Your eyes flicker down briefly to the fly of his jeans, his cock straining against the zipper. Sam chuckles softly at the little puff of air you let out. He winds his fingers in your hair, laying you back down on the bed and pressing his lips against yours again.

"Sam, show me what we did in your dream." you whisper between kisses.

Sam's lips stop and he looks down on you. "You sure?"

You nod your head and he sits up and unbuttons his jeans, pushing them down at the same time as his boxers. He kicks them aside, letting them fall to the floor. He reaches for your jeans, not even bothering to unbutton them, dragging them down you hips, your underwear coming with them, adding them to the pile of his own denim and plaid. You sit up and reach behind yourself, unhooking your bra, Sam finishes by gently slipping the straps down your shoulders and casting it aside. He looks down on you and you look up at him, both his eyes and yours taking just a moment to take in each others bodies.

"What did I do?" You smirk up at him. "You seemed to be thoroughly enjoying yourself..."

The apples of Sam's cheeks flush again, echoing the color that you know your own cheeks show. "You were, uh, you were...," his hips grind down onto yours. "You were giving me the best head, ever."

"Oh yeah?" You smirk as you reach your face up to kiss him.

"You sucked me down so nice, your lips looked so fucking hot wrapped around my cock."

You reach down between your bodies and grab Sam's leaking cock, it jumps in your hand at the first touch. He groans so low it it's almost a growl.

"You want me to do that? You want me to suck you down? Lay down, Sam." Your hand stroking him at a slow pace.

"That's...guh, that's not how we did it." He lets out another moan, "I was sitting and you were...".

"On my knees?" You grin up at Sam, finishing his sentence for him.

"Fuck, yes." Sam breathes as ruts his hips against your center, earning a groan from both of your throats.

You gently push him off of you and kneel down at the side of your bed. Sam situates himself in front of you, looking down on you eagerly. Taking just a moment to tease Sam, you lick around the head, never taking your eyes off Sam. He rubs your shoulders, his hands making their way up to your hair and petting it softly. When a tortured moan falls from Sam's lips, you work your mouth down his thick shaft, licking as you go.

"Just like that." Sam groans.

Your hair falls around your face and Sam moves it gently to the side, making it into a pony tail with his fist, so he can watch you.

Breathing in through your nose, you take Sam down as far as you can. The head of his cock pressing against your throat, making your eyes water slightly. When you cup his balls and start to move your mouth up and down, Sam lets out a series of groans, gripping your makeshift ponytail tighter. His free hand rubs your cheek softly, watching every movement of yours through his hooded eyes. A slight tug of your hair brings your eyes back up to Sam and he gently pulls you off of him.

"Sam?" You moan his name in a question, wondering why he pulled you off of him.

He doesn't answer you, just grabs you under your arms and pulls you up on his lap. You feel his spit slick cock against your inner thighs as he situates your hips over him. Before you know it, his mouth is on yours, his tongue greedily seeking out yours, sucking and kissing your tongue and lips, licking the taste of himself out of your mouth. His lips quickly move down to your neck and breasts, sucking hard on your soft skin, leaving a path of purple bruises.

You rock your hips against him as you whine, "Please, Sam. Want to feel you."

He chuckles against your skin, sucking and biting yet another delicious bruise. Rubbing up against you, he murmurs, "Not yet," and rolls you onto your back. "You said you wanted to know what we did in my dream..."

Before you can object, Sam's mouth is in your soft folds, tongue teasing your wet clit and dripping opening. His tongue is relentless, determined to bring you right to the edge, and when you're there, he pulls away. Stopping to press barely-there kisses on the inside of your thighs and over your slit.

When your move your hips up, searching for his mouth, his tongue licks one last time around your aching bundle of nerves and kisses up your stomach. You look down on Sam, on his knees between your legs. His eyes dark, mouth dark red and heavy cock between his legs, dripping steadily.

"Sam," you whisper again.

"I'm here," he groans as he gives himself a few strokes of his fist. "You sure you want this?"

If you were capable of forming any sort of words, you'd answer his question with some sort of smart ass remark, but you're not and you just beg him again, "Please..."

Without a word he rubs himself against your aching core, teasing you with the head of his cock. Then with one fluid motion he's inside you, buried to the hilt.

"God," he groans roughly. "So much better than I dreamed."

Sam's thrusts start off slow, his fingertips pressed into your hips, pulling you to him, making you body crash into his with every movement. His lips kiss your jaw, nipping at the lobe of your ear and down your jaw; using just enough teeth to make it hurt, but then expertly licking away the delicious pain.

You look up at his face, the beads of sweat forming on his brow, a beautiful sheen of moisture coating his neck and chest.  His eyes are barely open as they look down on you, taking in your curves, watching your breasts move with his thrusts. The sweet bounce of your chest proves too much for him and he presses his lips to a nipple, licking, nipping and sucking it to a pointy peak, making you gasp and buck your hips harder against his. You can feel him smirk against your soft skin and his hips start to move faster, the sound of skin slapping against skin almost echoing off the near empty walls and high ceilings of your bunker bedroom. 

Sam reaches down between you with a calloused hand and finds the aching nub hidden between your legs. With quick but gentle fingers, he circles your clit, perfectly timing the circlets with each divine roll of his hips. Just as you reach the edge of your orgasm, your walls clench around Sam and he pulls his hand away.

"Sam, I need to come." You whine breathlessly.

With no warning, save for a smirk, Sam rolls onto his back, pulling you  (with him still inside you) on top of him. His huge hands lift you up, just so the head of his cock is barely inside you and then roughly pulling you back down. You cry out at the quick movement and the new angle, grabbing onto his forearms tightly. He does this again and again, bringing you back to that edge. His hands move back to your breasts, cupping them and alternating between rolling your nipples between his thumb and forefinger and tweaking them softly at first and then harder. You roll your hips harder on top of him, feeling his length slide in and out of you, making you moan out Sam's name.

"Just like that. God, you feel so good around me. Don't stop..." Sam groans in a low voice.

Stealing one hand away from your chest, he brings it between your legs, slowly circling your clit again; just barely touching it. You move your hips even harder, hoping to get more pressure from his fingers. 

"Come with me." Sam says in a raspy voice, thick with arousal and need. You nod your head and his fingers go from slow to full assault mode. It takes just seconds for you to come, clenching around him, feeling his cock throb inside of you as he comes with a bitten off shout.

After a minute or two of riding out the aftershocks, Sam lifts you off of him and lies you down on the bed next to him. He covers the both of you with a soft blanket as you curl up next to him, his arm around your shoulder, using his chest as a pillow.

You run your fingertips softly through the light layer of sweat around his collar bone, smoothing the damp hair on his chest and stomach. Sam rolls onto his side so he's facing you, cradling you in his arms. He softly kisses your lips, taking a moment to lick them open and brush his tongue gently against yours.  His eyes meet yours and he smiles, pulling you closer to him.

In silence, he makes lazy circles on your back, his fingers moving slowly, trailing up and down your spine. You let out a contented hum with your lips pressed against Sam's chest, peppering his skin with soft kisses. After a moment, his fingers stop moving, his breathing comes in deep and even and his arm suddenly feels heavy around your waist.  You look up at him and his lips are parted slightly and his eyes are closed.

You smirk and whisper, "Sweet dreams, Sam."

**Author's Note:**

> "You can see it on his face, you know he knows you know because he can see it on your face too"
> 
> Any F.R.I.E.N.D.S fans out there? "They don't know that we know they know we know." Haha. Sorry. :)
> 
> The title is from an Eurythmics song, Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This). Marilyn Manson did a cover on it too and while I'm not a huge Marilyn Manson fan, both versions are good.


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